


Ley lines of the Tyrian story

by Akheloispione



Series: History's small cuttings with its large axe [1]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
Genre: About many Secondary role, About many Walk-on role/Bit-part player, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-10-17 07:13:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akheloispione/pseuds/Akheloispione
Summary: Years have not been easy one.Tyria knew and still knows many conflicts, the chaos and generations of war.Difficulties. Risks. Troubles. Disorders. Crises. Threats. Dangers.There were few peaceful days in these disturbed times.Discover the history of those who explored Tyria's lost lands, those who revealed Tyria's buried secrets, those who looked for reasons for existing and for living beyond glory and beyond the peace, those who brought the light of the hope and those stayed in the shade.





	1. Summary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi !  
> > Here is a one-shots’ series on the universe of ArenaNet's Guild Wars (or drabbles, short stories, independent chapter or freeform - name these writings however you want)  
> I'm not a professional writer. I beg you to be indulgent !  
> Since the chapters aren't related to each other, here is a table of contents with summaries. This allows you to avoid having to go through each chapter to read a chapter that you potentially like.

> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
>  Part 1 : Ley lines of the Tyrian story ([fr] Les lignes de forces de l’histoire tyrienne)  
>  Chapter 1 : Summary ([fr] Sommaire)

  


**Chapter 1** : _Summary_

**Chapter 2** : _“Colours and its laws of the Living World”_  
Poem.

**Chapter 3** : _Many have eyes but few have seen_  
Sara's story, priestess of Lyssa, and her relationship with her goddess.

**Chapter 4** : _We'll be a family again_  
Selen, a Whispers Agent, Demmi Beetlestone and the Lightbringer Tybalt Leftpaw meet together over a drink and talk. Demmi shows a portrait and Selene discovers it with surprise. They wonder if everything is fate.

**Chapter 5** : _Cat_  
When complications arise in life, cats seem to solve problems by soothing hearts. This is what the Pale Tree discovers with two of her children.

**Chapter 6** : _Everything goes so fast_  
Corvin's story, a young norn who will become a skaald.

**Chapter 7** : _Apple_  
Canach and Selen stand guard and then they get hungry because it's about apples.

**Chapter 8** : _Refugiee (1)_  
Canthan woman human's story. She is trying to leave her homeland for a better life.


	2. Colours and its laws of the Living World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll start with a poem (Yes, a poem in a series of one-shots ; logic has definitely slammed the door !).  
> I couldn’t decide on the chapter that would be the beginning ; the good entry point. So I thought a light introduction would be fine. I hope !
> 
> It’s my feeling (but it’s a little old with all novelties) about a fanfiction that I particularly appreciate.  
> This poem is a tribute and a « THANK YOU » for the writer ! We can say that it was thanks to this user that I started to communicate and publish my chapters.  
> Enough talk ; I pray that you have a good time ! (^w^)

> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
>  Part 1 : Ley lines of the Tyrian story ([fr] Les lignes de forces de l’histoire tyrienne)  
>  Chapter 2 : Colors and its laws of the Living World ([fr] Les couleurs et leurs lois du Monde Vivant)

  


_Mix of pink and violet, darkness has a mesmerizing beauty._  


All people says :« White is the innocence color of purity. »  
He takes a given aspect. The white is neutral, originally.  
False ! Betrayal, trick, sham, slander, ignominy, deception.  
His brightness is an art of destruction, in his all perfection.  


_You have nothing to offer, not even a little thing._  


Forgive me ! I see the painful truth in his eyes  
But I just, deep down, accept his beautiful lies  
I hate illusion however I love the pleasure  
To play with it. And if it was my real nature ?  


_You already gave me what you have : everything._  


This hopeless situation broke my Dream for this horror  
In a scream, as one bleak scythe of gloom in a mirror.  
Bring upon me the sound of no sound for my Mother,  
Lack of make proud my luminary and my brother.  


_Good-hearted but moronic, you’re just an adorable fool._  


The curiosity kills the cat but there is nothing  
Only a dog. That why, I have one life, not nine.  
Some pieces of existence at the end of a string,  
A flowery necklace. Sorry, if I crossed the line.  


_The art of seduction is too subtle for a simple tool._  


Bound soul and spirit, I am satisfy of this deceit and poison ;  
You too much suffered and I laugh at it beyond any reason.  
Love is a Solar Beam which warmed my heart, suddenly  
It shines, like the Cosmic Ray, too strongly to blind me.  


_No skill or glyphs, you’re in my doom, it’s too late._  


But more the Astral Wisp grows and highlights the sun  
More her dark side become white. Support, please !  
A blinding magic which makes suffer me, for fun ?  
And I persist to smile in the pain of that beloved disease.  


_You committed a crime where the perpetrator is the victim._  


« I’m completely awake and alive » said the misery, deep inside.  
After all what we crossed and lost together, I should not hide  
My secret and other mystery. However, I’m born in the night ;  
It’s the shatter of my intended way. Yes, I don’t have this right...  


_No spell can bring you out of my curse ; it’s your fate._  


A truth said in three simple words that were never easy at all.  
Don’t think. My emotions will make the Nightmare an open door.  
I pull on the chains with an apathetic violence on the floor.  
It’s a dangerous game. I know and I accept but what if I fall ?  


_I thank your naivety to be dazzled by your side of benevolent._  


Leave me with the hope so that the darkness may not enter.  
Sorry friends. It’s an ultimatum more than a choice.  
I don’t answer but I hear your nudge and your voice.  
Not forget in your mind : I’m a Valiant and wild hunter.  


_What a chance, to have given to “Evil” the shape of an innocent !_  


I’d undergo but would remain straight as a mainstay  
I protect all of you. Even if my future ripped away,  
I would stop this flush, warm, soft and mauve mess.  
Even if I have to sink in this endless madness.  


_Why don’t you react ? Meditation ? Don’t hide me the pain !_  


They said that my Dream would become the reality.  
But have they forgotten that Nightmare is also bad reverie ?  
White, dark, grey ; that hues I never can’t deny.  
But, what is this blue which illuminate my sky ?  


_Which reflection urges you to keep your gullibility without stain ?_  


Why the Fern Hound changes into the Wolf Spirit,  
This loyal guide who helps me while I am a culprit ?  
Where is the hand which mistake my naive mind ?  
What is this shield which protect my whole rind ?  


_Don’t forget : Your white is stained as my thorn in your heart and body._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, this isn’t a good formal poem (Is it only a poem ?) that respects the rules of English poetry because... I’m not very good at English poetry and English, quite simply !
> 
> So, so... what did you think ?  
> If « nay », don’t flee right away : please, give me your opinion in comment !  
> And for « yes » : give me your feelings too ! (>///<)


	3. Many have eyes but few have seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many have eyes and many turn them away.  
>  _« Have you no heart ? »_  
>  Me, I refuse not to see. Especially when it comes to the truth, the terrible beauty of reality.  
> Even if it's ephemeral. Even if it's wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy !

> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
>  Part 1 : Ley lines of the Tyrian story ([fr] Les lignes de forces de l’histoire tyrienne)  
>  Chapter 3 : Many have eyes, but few have seen ([fr] Beaucoup ont des yeux, mais peu ont vu)

  


You crossed through the gates of our village and approached us, so young and yet your body was as twisted as a tree stuck in a vault. Tired, the disease eating away at your appearance seems to devour your soul.  
I feel your pain but I see a beauty without equal. 

Curved under a dirty sheet that acts as a coat, you ask for some hospitality and a simple job.  
And my brothers and sisters look away from you. My elders are turning away. The wiser ones don't deign to look up at you.  
« Ye have the mark of plague upon ye, » said Dean Gallrick, « Leave this place lest you sicken our people. »  
Everyone looked at you with horror. And your eyes have pity... on us.  


You try again. You seem to test us in your miserable mercy.  
You beg, weep asylum, you who have, in your words, lost your home and family.  
It sounds wrong but it doesn't matter. You're asking for help. And I don't pretend to be in pain. Even if everything is a lie.  


So when all our inhabitants started to move away from you, I walk through the crowd on the wrong way and I approached the sick stranger you seemed to be.  
« My name is Sara. If you need help, I will give it. »  


You behold me. You probe me deep inside me. You whisper.  
« Do you have a heart ? »  
I reach out to you my hand to help support your exhausted person.  
You decline it to grab your cloak and thus abandon it in an agile movement. You reveal yourself in majestic clothes and an aura of splendor.  
« Lyssa » I marveled.  
In the brightness of your sudden light, our Village of Wren fell to your knees and begged your forgiveness in complete prostration.  


I came out of your charm when you grabbed my hand.  
« True beauty is measured not by appearance but by actions and deeds. Many have eyes, but few have seen. » You designate me and you speak to me but it’s destined to everyone else. « Of all here, you saw the beauty behind the illusion. And you alone shall be blessed with My gifts. »  


I kneel, understanding that you will give a punishment to the inhabitants for their mistake. I beg you by inventing a pretext :  
« O Goddess Lyssa, please. Be kind to them. Fear blinded them. Our ravaged lands, they only thought to protect what they had and loved. Mortals already suffer so much. »  
Your eyes have seen beyond my fabrications, into the depths of my soul.  
« Your heart is pure. Do not tint him with lies, Sara. But I see; the love you bring to these people justifies you amply. » She bowed her head to this people at her feet. « I give you one last chance. What gift will your forgiveness be, people of Wren ? »  


And our women have received you with honors while the children entertain you. Our men, in a religious silence, offer you the plain where, soon, will be built a temple to your honor. Wherever your truth has dazzled us, will be revealed forever ; the Cathedral of Eternal Radiance.  


*

*

*

After being appointed as your priestess, you brought us joy and helped us forget the mistakes of the past and our suffering. Thanks to you, we are turned to a future that we want to build radiant.  
You give us the hope and beauty of humanity so that we can wear them like everyday clothes.  
Every day that passes is a feast where we keep away the pain.  
Hidden in our village, the travelers pray to you and you answer them through my words and my gestures.  


~

« You are joy and happiness embodied, my Goddess » You look at the splendid sunset.  
« You're wrong, Sara. I am the illusion incarnate. And all that I distribute is an illusion. Behind my gifts are always hiding a truth. A painful truth. And we prefer to turn our eyes away at the beautiful lie. Let me tell you the lessons I give to vain humans. »  


You told me the story of the campfire.  
Disguised as a child, you met soldiers and they didn’t take you seriously ; neither you nor your lesson on the difference between truth and illusion. Like our village, the men committed a terrible mistake.  
Laughing, they dared to ask you to undress ; your beauty in the dark night would be the hope of a truce « …Show us your beauty… ».  


~

I felt mischief at the sight of your smile full of divine grace. You narrated your words of yesteryear.  
« Share your food with me, and in return for your kindness, I will show you beauty the likes of you will never see again. »  


~

They gave you a meal and what dreams they did. All different : prosperity, family, wealth, health. But all had the vision of peace.  
When they woke up, you disappeared and the enemy appeared.  
They fought body and soul in the momentum of their dream that they mistaken for a “truth”. When their bodies fell to the ground, they finally understood the word “illusion”.  
So, they returned to their deep sleep.  


And the campfire is slowly extinguished by the sound of the falling and collapsing bodies and the footsteps of a child moving away.  


~

You cropped up from the darkness but you are the only light.  


~

At the end of your story, you tell me, « Never forget : behind my beautiful mask, there is a face reflecting the ugliness of this world. Never forget, Sara. »  


_Never, Goddess Lyssa. Never._  


*

*

*

« I have to leave. » My irises are staring at you.  
« My Goddess ? »  
« Arah is finished. The city is finally built and is ready to receive the gods. »  
I smile at you with all my courage, but the tears are already beading. And your face darkens with such a wistful look.  
« Sara... you can come with me. » I waver. Misunderstanding and surprise arose in my eyes. « Be at my side, my priestess. Your ephemeral being, I can make him immortal by my side. Come to Arah. Follow my path. »  
I look at you and smile at you with sadness but determination.  
« You warned me that illusion was the mask of a terrible truth. I am ready to face this truth. I will follow your path but I will not be with you on this journey. My beautiful Goddess, these moments that we shared together are eternal in my memory. »  


A ceremony was held, a procession in your honor :  
« Goddess Lyssa, beauty is ephemeral and you are the exception.  
We will follow your path by the path of your words, henceforth our principles, where the lies are dispelled by your passage.  
At your feet, we will deposit our prejudices and our opinions.  
Faced with your captivating brilliance we will wonder about questions of ephemeral and appearance.  
Your voice is our only guide. Illusion is the truth we will seek. This truth with its contours, imbued of beauty -yours- and power –yours. »  


And you left with your peers despite your tears on the way to the west. The rain seems to me so insipid and bland in front of such a sad spectacle.  


*

*

*

My body is no longer very young henceforth and I see the end as the tide coming at the foot of the cliff.  
To ascend to your altar, my beautiful Goddess, is now so painful to me that despite all my efforts, I stop so much the suffering persuades me to abandon my ascension.  
I think these flowers I'm laying here are the last ones I can bring you.  
Our wives are dead. Our men are dead. Our children are dead. All the time of your bright presence has passed. Your light has gone out. Somewhere unknown. I still remain, carried by your blessing. Alone. And I can't take it any more. I can’t stand it anymore.  


You suddenly appeared to me at the Altar of Lies. Your shine hasn't changed. I blush to see your beautiful face, one last time.  
« Goddess Lyssa ? » I am amazed.  
« My sweet Sara. Look at your condition. See your state. There is still time to come with me to the City of the Gods »  
I smile at you. Again. One last time.  
« My Goddess. I don't mean to offend you, but I decline once again your heavenly request. I am mortal. I am as ephemeral as your divine illusions. It's time for me to disappear and give way to a new beauty. »  


~

Formerly, in this circle, we looked at the bay water bay reflecting reality as a mirror.  
Sometimes, in Orr's water, my reflection split to reveal the twin sisters Lyss and Ilya. I often wondered if you have continually deceived me, you who always presented yourself to me under one entity.  


~

_Is this pure heart just naive foolishness ?_  


~

I approached the Mirror's Handle and I contemplated the void under me where we met and where we were watching at, both in the evening, the sun and the sea.  
I painfully left the Seal of Union.  
I crossed the Reflection Cove for the last time.  
I walked towards your altar and looked for the last time at your statue illuminated by the Beacon Torch and the Spark of Ilya.  
I have traveled the Song of Lyss, slowly, not out of fear of the future but out of present satisfaction with the past.  
Then I continued to wander a little, for a moment, in these places that marked my long existence : the Garden of Ilya and the Valley of Lyss.  
I finally went up the river that flows into Mirror Bay and finally headed for the Hope Falls.  


Despite the fatigue, I remember standing up and breathing fully for the last time.  
Then I remember jumping.  


~

And I rise in your element to join the eternal illusion.  


~

My death is an honor that I intend to give you, my sublime goddess. And I know that even distance can't stop us from worshipping you. What I am doing today, I am sure, others will do tomorrow. For others.  
_Love blinds us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet.


	4. We'll be a family again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did the beautiful apples in the basket end up rotting ?  
> Which one had a worm to the point that they all spoil and decompose ?  
> But even this snake can’t destroy the memory of happiness. It isn't as powerful as the resonance of laughter and the drawing engraved in their memory of smiles and happiness in their hearts.
> 
> The secret of a friendship. The mystery of a portrait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello !  
> A little story about an Whispers Agent, Demmi and the adorable Tybalt. (Who doesn't love him ?)  
> Good reading !

> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
>  Part 1 : Ley lines of the Tyrian story ([fr] Les lignes de forces de l’histoire tyrienne)  
>  Chapter 4 : We'll be a family again ([fr] Nous allons redevenir une famille)

  


Between the laughter of passers-by and the growls of drunkards, around a table at the back of the tavern, three people were chatting away from the other customers. Under their capes, the colors and badge of the Order of Whispers are hidden. One of them, with a reedy voice, murmured for his two companions.  


« The sun is shining, summer to winter, all the day  
Its bright illumination illuminates our lives.  
But don't worry, pitiful mortal, astray.  
Even if the sun suddenly decide to disappear  
All hope will not be lost for our relatives  
And ourselves in this endless night. I swear.  


The moon watches over our poor lost lifeblood  
His sweet light guides us in any mood  
Whatever obstacles, through the darkness  
And the everlasting dust of the universe.  


Unlike selfish constellations, proud of their sainthood,  
Who keep for them the brightness of the heavenly rood,  
The moon is our dear mirror and reflects  
All the night the celestial body of light.  
Thanks to her, the sun is still there, still perfect.  
Our path emerges once again. You see, it is alright.  


Don’t despair and bless her who avoids us the deathblow  
Because without her, we would be nothing.  
Nothing but falling comets in the meaningless,  
Destined to crash hopeless into nothingness,  
To sink and to fade into the eternal shadow.  
She always saves us when the sun is in downswing.  


Look ! She is only beauty and love.  
With her grace and delicacy, we’re not alone.  
See ! The moon is already eclipsing.  
In the light of the above, it's dawn at last,  
Over and over, as in the repetitive past.  
My two stars, in their respective roles, are gleaming. »  


~

« It's a lovely poem, Demmi. » Tybalt hummed between two sips of apple cider.  
« Isn't ? » Her face became melancholy « It was my mother's favorite. »  
Selen lowered her head on her glass « Don't force yourself to talk about the past. » Hers resurfaces but the determination is reflected in the liquor « Be whatever you want. But don't forget that with us, you can be who you are. »  
Demmi looked at the young Whispers Agent whose grey eyes were burning with a mysterious almost divine gold. Tybalt smiled with all his teeth. Demmi took a deep breath.  
« It doesn’t bother me to talk about it. Not to you. You saved my life after all. »  
« That's why we're here ! And it was fun too. »  


Selen laughs at the comment from the charr. Fun, huh ? This mission had been a disaster at all levels.  
Wait, when did she start laughing like that ? Yes, she had changed. Her life had changed. From then on, she could stop chasing chimeras and stop fleeing from her fate.  
Then they all laughed, all three. The other customers in the tavern were looking at them sideways. Perhaps the trio was too noisy for them or were they admiring their unity ? What does it matter ?! No matter what the gossip, no matter the hardships : all three were inseparable. At least, they believed. They believed in it with all the sincerity of their hearts.  


Finally Demmi took his courage and put his hand in his jacket to draw a piece of paper, no, a portrait. On the back, Selen could see something covering the space of this piece of paper ; a text.  
Tybalt leaned to his right to observe the paper. Selen waited. He frowned as if to see better.  
« Who are these people ? » he asks in a soft almost silent voice.  
« My parents, my godparents and friends of them. On the back, the poem is inscribed. »  
She handed the paper to her mentor. He took it with all possible delicacy, fearing that his claws could pierce the small painting. He looked briefly at the poem and then turned the piece of paper and observed the faces.  
« It's funny. The woman, on the left, looks a lot like you, Selen. »  
She raised her head from her drink. Huh ?  
Demmi laughed and snatched the portrait « What ? Nonsense ! Either you get old or you get drunk, my poor. » she stopped sharply and stared at the paper for a long moment. « But... it's true too. You look remarkably to this woman. »  
The ranger came closer to the duo who was arguing about excuses, the insult "old" didn’t go very well. She didn’t pay attention and put her silver eyes on the paper.  


Selen's eyes grew larger.  
She had already seen her parents' portrait. Mentor Mehid and Salia had shown her the professional portraits of her parents, those of the Shining Blade’ secret archives.  
Despite the fact that they wore noble clothes and not the Shining Blade’s armor, she immediately recognized them.  
To the left of the picture stands her father, Shiron Aekuus, wearing the traditional dress of ministers. The blue and gold colors of the suit accentuate the pallor of her Canthian skin and the grey of his eyes.  
He casts an amused look over his wife. He also placed one hand on her shoulder, sitting elegantly on the armrest of the sofa.  
Her mother, Helen Libra, holds her husband's hand. She wears the aristocrats’ armor, having the same colors as her husband. Surrounded by her tanned complexion and brown hair, her golden eyes pierce the portrait and look at something, far beyond the painter.  
She sees something but keeps her posture, slightly leaning, towards Caudecus. He smiles, sitting comfortably on the sofa. He smiles like everyone else in this painting. Demmi's mother sits beside her husband and laughs with her cousin to her right, Lady Wi. The Minister Wi standing next to his wife, arms crossed, also smiles and answers Shiron's gaze.  
They all look happy and a warm atmosphere emerges.  
How could all this have changed ?  


« Selen ? » asks a small voice. The ranger comes out of her thoughts and looks at the other human. She smiled at her to reassure her, in a good mood. As if this painting inspired to joy and friendship.  
« It’s normal for this woman to be like me. It's my mother. » Tybalt nearly choked on his umpteenth glass of cider.  
« Your mother... so this man is-- »  
« My father. Yes. »  
« You didn’t tell me that your parents are my father’s friends. »  
« Were. They died a long time ago. »  
« Bandits I suppose. » Demmi grumbles at the difficult memory of the past.  


Faced with the suddenly gloomy look of Legate Minister’s daughter, the charr engineer intervened by passing his big paw through her hair.  
« It's pretty, isn't ? You are related. Destined to meet you. It's a good thing I was there to make that happen. » They laughed again.  
« You are part of this destiny, Tybalt. You are part of this family. »  
Demmi said these few words so naturally that her comrades froze. Selen felt something compressing her heart. Ah, a family. Other than Andrew and Petra, other than her young sister Deborah. New horizons. A shiver went up along her back. Fear or happiness ?  
Tears streamed from the corner of the charr’s eyes just after the perplexity gave way to realization. He discreetly removed them and accused the human. « See what you're saying. The cider goes to your head. And then, you say I'm the one who's drunk! »  
But Selen's eyes had pierced the little game.  


She calmly contemplated her two companions who were fighting like... like an old couple. Inside, she laughed. Obviously she doesn't say that otherwise she'd end up with a gun and a rifle pointed at her. She laughs at the thought of this situation.  
She took with her friend's consent the portrait to look at the back of the memory and to see the writing.  
The poem that Demmi had recited between two mugs of alcohol was written in Krytian. The writing was very similar to her and her sister Deborah's.  
Was it possible that one of his parents wrote the poem ? She smiled at the thought of this possibility and just added, « It's really a beautiful poem. »  
They nodded and continued their little integration party before returning to the Whispers’ headquarters, the Chantry of Secrets.  


~

Selen never told to Demmi that Caudecus had slaughtered her parents to the point that it was a miracle that their bodies were identified. No, never.  
And this promise will not drown in alcohol and disappear the next day with his headache.  
She had abused it a little bit tonight. No, never.  


She clings to happiness. She will restore laughter and radiant faces.  


Try to live, try to be happy, it's worth it. Yes, it’s worth it.  
And even if she is wrong, in the depths of her heart, Selen believes it and will continue to believe it.  
Their resplendent smiles are forever in her heart. Their smiles are like a moon in difficult times when the sunlight will disappear.  
And as always, a new dawn will rise on the apple basket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Selen (Original human Character).
> 
>   
> Their story is so short in the game. Their relationship deserves to be deepened.  
> For Selen, I have plans. Perhaps one day you will see her story ? I don't know yet....  
> \- And, yes, in this new chapter, I also wrote a poem. (I have a serious and big problem with poems right now)
> 
> See you later !


	5. Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, listening to the sounds of nature liberates you, especially when these sounds are only softness and warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy !

> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
>  Part 1 : Ley lines of the Tyrian story ([fr] Les lignes de forces de l’histoire tyrienne)  
>  Chapter 5 : Cat ([fr] Chat)

  
The blue lines weakly traveled across the floor of Omphalos Chamber. The fresh, cut grass gently bent into a non-existent breeze. This room was full of magic but the passion seemed to have disappeared in a deep thought. Ventari's tablet didn’t shine as brightly as it used to.

The Pale Tree was lost in the convoluted meanders of the Dream. She had to protect her children, but in the name of the world’s balance, she had to inevitably guide them on the path leading to the altar of sacrifice. She sighed as she faced the task so... complex.  
She took her eyes off the enchanted lawn, surprised by a... caterwaul.

Trahearne stood in front of her, a kitten in his arms. He looked at his mother with a radiant face, but his concern for his mother gave him a curious expression. He had a naive, almost carefree look ; his eyes glowing with this pure yellow.

Faced with this, the Dream Guardian finally regained a smile and her eldest son approached her with the animal. Once on the ground, the cat began to give strokes and begged for caresses under the amused gaze of the Mother and the almost childish laughter of her boy. It was undoubtedly noticeable that Trahearne was fascinated by the cat.  
The Pale Tree turned all her attention away from her thoughts in favor of an greedy interest in the pretty purring melody : the gloomy thoughts had vanished to the sound of feline and affable humming.

 

* * *

 

The Pale Tree was very tired. She was slowly recovering from the World Summit’s incident and despite the victory over Mordremoth, she had almost no energy left. Grief exhausted her strength much more than the dragon had wounded him.  
Footsteps timidly echoed in the room. Yet they were heavy with an indescribable burden and immeasurable pain.  
She watched her child come forward. Raëndaxia didn’t look up at her mother, preferring to stare at the floor as if it could hide reality like a wall. But the ground is, as for ships in the harbor, a mooring to real life. The chains are heavy and powerful maintaining the ship from pitching in dangerous waters.

The mesmer was avoiding contact with her mother, choosing to look at the room. _How long had she been in this room, in harmony and peace with herself, without the chaos of the world pursuing her ?_  
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t question herself about the fact that she was alone with her mother : her protectors having disappeared. After all, her mind was occupied by more important things. The algia of the Love’s pangs tore her heart and broke her reason.

Dismal tears were beading in the corner of her eyes. She will be her own arm in a protective embrace.  
A meowing sounded.  
She jumped and looked at the source of the noise. At her feet was a golden and transparent cat. Magic bubbles and ethereal flows floated around the artificial animal.  
A simple cat.

 

* * *

 

Raëndaxia entered in Fort Trinity’s central room, Caer Aval.  
« Commander ! » Trahearne's voice rang out.

He was sitting on the floor next to the strategic table. Around him were rubbing three adorable cats. For the first time, the young Mesmer discovered her eldest brother from a different angle.

He looked like a sapling discovering the world and having fun with everything that came to him. All tension had disappeared as if he had never been a marshal, as if he had never been a valiant, as if he had never been the first of all. He seemed... free from any responsibility, from any charge ; fate no longer having any control over him.

The three small animals rubbed against the man and one of them walked towards the young woman, demanding her attention. Raëndaxia looked at her lover as if to ask her permission and Trahearne smiled at her lover as if to give her permission.  
She put her hand through the animal's coat. It was as delicate as the kisses he offered her gently.

 

* * *

 

The mesmer looked at her mother. The Pale Tree smiled as her hand twinkled with this fairy light and focused on the imaginary shape of the cat.  
Raëndaxia's chest tightened with pain, she was out of air when the pain went up. A sob escaped and a second one followed and the tears became unstoppable.

And then, she knelt to take the unreal cat in her arms. She cradled it, cuddled while crying. This bitter sweetness strangely bandaged her soul. The purrs roamed the walls and the crannies of her broken happiness, slipped in harmony around her sadness, and warming the dark, cold depths of her despair. 

The Pale Tree leaned toward her daughter and played with the cat as she had done with her son years ago.  
Behind the veil of the young sylvari’s tears, a smile appeared. A smile similar to Trahearne's, free of all darkened and benighted emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Raëndaxia (Original female sylvari Character).
> 
>   
> 


	6. Everything goes so fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvin was a child playing on the grass. He was the witness to the first legendary act marking the beginning of a long history. Corvin is a skaald.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy !

> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
>  Part 1 : Ley lines of the Tyrian story ([fr] Les lignes de forces de l’histoire tyrienne)  
>  Chapter 6 : Everything goes so fast ([fr] Tout va si vite)

  
The grass pierced with difficulty through the snow despite the advance of Spring. The green tufts were cold and slipped between the fingers when you took them in hand.  
The farm was simple in its construction but it was warm and welcoming that the building could easily be called « home ».

The children ran throwing themselves the last possible snowballs at each other. The elders reprimanded the young people for not paying attention to the plantations ; the light breeze carried away the reproaches and twisted the flowers, whose petals came out with difficulty from the flakes agglutinated on the ground.  
The song of birds was confused with that of insects nibbling their ephemeral life.

Eir was showing a wooden sculpture she had made to a friend of hers. The latter was the daughter of the family who owned the most cultivated land in the region.  
Corvin wasn’t an artist, or a craftsman by the way, and he certainly didn’t have the patience to be one. However, he liked artistic works, especially that of his friend Eir. It was refined and uncluttered.

The fragile peace in the southern territories had lasted for nearly a few decades when hatred resumed with the suddenness of unquenchable thicket fire, with the abruptness of a poorly extinguished wild bush.  
Everything went so fast.  
Dull noises and screams. Disordered, heavy and noisy steps of a bloody destiny.

 

Corvin would have liked that the last memory of these lands would not be that of a white tinted vermilion and plants bending under the weight of the corpses.  
But everything went so fast.  
A horde of icebrood appeared as fast as the torrent crashing at the foot of the waterfall. The farm was razed to the ground and the farming family was slaughtered. The wood chips from the beams flew into the air. The bodies of innocent farmers were projected like the illusions of a mesmer. All this shattered like a skull crushed against a wall ; life breaks like glass. All this exploded into a shapeless mass of details that we want to forget.  
The blood that gushes out of the viscera coming out of the notched bellies.  
The skin that was torn under the pressure of the bones coming out of their place.  
The tearing of ligaments and flesh.  
And the heart exposed that beats faster.  
The lungs looking for air while bodies were open on all sides.

And then Corvin felt someone pulling him out of all the fights. It was Eir, whose face was burning with incomparable hatred, almost revived and rekindled by the blood of her friend covering her body.  
At barely nine years old, her hunting instinct manifested itself to protect her comrade. Fear didn’t come. The only thing that came along was death... and fate.  
Icebrood spotted the two children and moved towards them. Alone, she killed three of the frost monsters with her carved, sculpted bow. They fell one after the other.

 

He didn't know what the others, the ones he had seen alive before escaping, had become. And he wasn't interested. His eyes kept staring at the young ranger norn.

He looked at his young friend. She was wonderful, she was strong, she was brave. Her eyes shone with the same light as the glow of a corsair treasure. He was standing in front of an incredible person. He had just found the way : the invaluable and inestimable path of his life.

A strange impulse seized his heart and pushed him forward. His vision was shaking and he was shivering. He had believed that he was useless, especially when he had been faced with this carnage. He had been a witness. His survival was the testimony of a legend’s first act.

This curious feeling invaded him like the nausea that was coming, the realization of this slaughter that had taken place in front of him. The realization of the luck he had had.

He wanted to seize hope before everyone else and spread it as fervently as possible. He wanted to laud, to praise, to sing. He wanted everyone to hear this story. He wanted this story to resonate. He wanted to be the one who would announce this future legend; the first to recognize this phenomenon.  
After all, if there is no one to introduce a hero, no one will know that there are heroes. No one would know about this story.  
_I'm going to change that !_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet.
> 
>   
> 


	7. Apple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy !

> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
>  Part 1 : Ley lines of the Tyrian story ([fr] Les lignes de forces de l’histoire tyrienne)  
>  Chapter 7 : Apple ([fr] Pomme)

  
In the distance, noises crumpled against the flora of the jungle. Being careful, deformed and monstrous screams could be heard at the depths of the forest, where the darkness was thickening and where the shadows merging and being mistake with the forms of nature.

Many of the many noises were covered by Braham's snoring. Selen was reassured that he had found sleep when his mother was close and yet out of reach. Kasmeer and Majory were slender, just next to Rox who was curled up near the tribune. Frostbite had buried himself to rest better.  
The Commander Selen had ordered despite Rytlock's information that they all rest. He had felt that an heir to fate was close when the little guild approached the mordrems' prison camp.

 

Canach had offered to stand guard but the others didn’t accept due to the fact that he was sylvari and that they were suspicious. Selen had agreed to let him stand guard if she did too. Confident in their boss, they had finally found sleep and they left the protection of their makeshift camp in the hands of the Commander.

Canach wasn’t happy but not happy at all. That him who had insinuated the idea of resting at the Commander like a snake whispering in the ears the next sin to be tried. He plan was for her to rest under the excuse that everyone was tired and that she make a halt.

Total failure.  
She is standing guard with him. It wasn’t unpleasant to be in her company. Of all the people, Canach preferred the presence of the Commander ; she didn't care if he was a sylvari, if he was a criminal (whereas she had arrested him in the past). She was soothing in this tumult. A conciliatory silence in the din of that voice.

He grabbed an apple he had found on the way.

Yes. Being with her was so pleasant. Only the warrior would have preferred her to sleep. He would have liked that the black lines under the line of her eyes marking her fatigue disappear. He had to be satisfied with staring to her watch the darkness. She didn't seem to want to look at him. And when he caught her observing her, she looked away immediately.  
Canach ignored the behavior. They had been getting closer for a while, but there were moments when she was totally incomprehensible, as if they were two strangers. He was used to it. He had the habit. Their relationship was a piece of coin tossing ; heads : they stood face to face, or, tails : they turned their backs on each other. The room was spinning and they were waiting impatiently for the result to see if they would win the lottery of love.

 

He turned the apple in his hand with his thumb. He didn't seem to decide to eat it, too busy in his thoughts.

 

He focused on a way to make her lie down and close her eyes. Maybe he was going to use her pet. He knew that the crows were always on alert, watching their mistress. He also knew that in the ferns, or not far in the brush, there was Kax, her feline, lurking in the corner, prowling around, attentive.  
By the time Canach approached Selen to put his plan into action and do everything to get her to bed, a noise rang out.  
The human's grey eyes grew larger with shame. She had immediately frozen. Canach leaned towards her, turned his head to see her reaction better.  
« Commander… ? »  
Growling again. The human's tummy made another noise.  
Immediately, she hugged her arms around her stomach to try to silence it.  
The sylvari laughs, a mischievous smile on his face. He swore to see the human's cheeks blush.  
« Hold. » The sylvari handed her the apple.

She wasn’t moving, but at least her wonderful lunar irises had established contact with the male beside her.

 

An apple : a fruit that had a heavy meaning.

 

**Selen had been creative to destroy the letter of the Order of Whispers. Now she was walking around the streets of Lion's Arch looking for an apple vendor. Considering how many times the word “apple” had been written in the message, the apple stand had to be obvious. Then she heard it ; that deep voice and yet so sweet and soft.**  
**« Apples, Apples for sale, come and get a nice quiet apple ! » The charr looked at the human ranger.**  
**« Psst ! They're so quiet, you might say they're whispering ! » These words... these double entendre... they were the same as those in the mail. That was for sure : this engineer is a member of the Order.**  
**The Mysterious Apple Seller beckons to Selen « You know what would hit the spot right now ? A juicy, red apple ! Apples, not pears ! Here's, not there's ! Come buy an apple ? » Then he points to her « Knock knock ! Who's there ? You ! Buying an apple. »**  
  
**It was haloed in the scent of apples that Selen had met her mentor, the Lightbringer Tybalt Leftpaw.**

  


Selen continued to fix the fruit in Canach's strong and rough hand.

  
  
**« I offer and pay the drinks. Apple cider for everyone. » Tybalt shouted already quite drunk.**  
**« Cheer to our first mission ! » Demmi replied, her cheeks red, laughing for everything and for nothing. Especially for nothing.**

  
  
The fruit was like hypnotic. It thrust the commander into warm memories that gently fell into an icy abyss where Grief was king and where, for eternity, he had married his bride : Death.

  
  
**« And if we fail… »**  
**The little hands trembled with a much paler white than usual. From this point of view, the incredible ranger looked like a porcelain doll, so fragile, so breakable.**  
**A red shape passed under the human's lowered head.**  
**« Eat an apple. It will give you strength. Don't fear to fail. Be afraid to do anything for fear of failure. » The charr smiles with his sharp teeth.**

  
  
The purple irises devoured the young woman's body, these thin curves under the outline of her muscles while the human was lost in the nightmares that Maguuma's shadows drew.

  
  
**A huge tree shaded an engraved stone plaque. Trahearne walked, towards the praying human woman, in a movement as graceful as the leaves swirling in the wind and elegantly rubbing the grasses of the ground.**  
**« It's a wonderful apple tree. »**  
**« I hope it will keep up to the task. »**  
**« It is. Don't doubt it. »**

  
  


He would have liked to hear Mordremoth's voice, just so that his mind would be disturbed and focuse on something other than the beautiful human woman in armor outrageously close to her body. He was hypnotized by the Dragonslayer, only wanting to devour the hero.  
Of course, prisoner of this feeling that he was invading it and he shouldn't have it, Canach hid in his sneaky shell. His lips contracted into a sardonic smile. As an old habit. Like a bad habit.  
_Oh, gosh ! Damn it ! She'll sleep later. Let's enjoy the sunrise being extinguished in the darkness of the night._

 

« You don't mind if I eat it because you don't want it. »  
Selen came out of that feverish trance where the apples danced in a heady round when she heard the voice that made her burn with intense pleasure.  
« What ?! .... Wait ! »

Amused, he didn’t wait for the Hero Selen to recover from her emotions.  
He took a bite of the juicy fruit. The water from the fruit dripped on his mouth. His tongue passed over these lips, trying to remove the wetness from the ripe fruit. After swallowing the apple piece, he looked at the commander with that typical snide smile.

He had a gust of wind as if nature was sending a signal.  
Selen agreed to participate in this dangerous game again after she had sworn last dawn never to do it again, never to join the sylvari's attempts and temptations.  
She looked away from the path to drown in Canach's eyes. Sultry look. Sweet words in the hollow of the ear. Skins touching each other. First name they whisper to each other. And even more. Too much. Everything.

 

As always, dawn erase and will wipe out their sin. In the shadows of the night, no one will see their action.  
(She turned to her companions. Check. They were asleep.)  
And the rising sun will hide the traces of their crime.  
For the time being, dawn wasn’t yet here. And the partners in crime decided to take advantage of it in order to have fun.

 

She breathed to calm herself and to silence that little voice that told her not to continue, that she had sworn at dawn.  
Unfortunately for this little voice, Selen had become a competitor in this impure game. She smiles with lust.  
Like a Melandru’s stalker, she stepped forward towards the warrior. She put one hand between his legs. Her arm wasn’t in contact with the crotch of the sylvari but the breath of the movement tickled Canach before setting him on fire.  
Her other hand grabbed his wrist and turned it around. Then she took a bite out of the apple, right on the edge of Canach's bite. A drop ran down her skin, up to her neck. The movement was a slow agony, a slow combustion.

« My stomach thanks you. »  
She wiped her mouth unsightly with the back of her hand. Teasing, enticing and coarse. Without any restraint.  
Canach came closer in this close proximity. His warm breath swept the raven hair strands of the human and his eyes full of lust stirred to ignite the fire in the hollow of Selen’s tummy.

« I know you're hungry, but I didn’t think it was to the point of neglecting your appearance. Let me fix that. »  
He opened his mouth and pulled out his tongue to make it slide on Selen's sweet skin. Her hands grabbed his shoulders. She moans.  
He attacked his collarbone : licking, biting and claiming what the criminal wasn’t allowed to ask in public.  
She grabbed the apple with her hand, then put her arms around the neck of the sylvari before tipping back. He overcame her and continued to touch it with the tip of his lips, brushing against the slightest sensitive points. The humidity of these kisses made the ranger shiver with happiness.  
As Selen wriggled and writhe under Canach, looking for contact, something stung the sylvari. He jumped and winced immediately. He almost screamed but his lips were sealed with those of his lover.  
After the jolt, they looked at the origin of their interruption.

 

It was Frostbite.  
Canach sighed.

 

He was sure Kax had asked Frostbite to disturb them. Furthermore, Kax had approached and was now sitting in the middle of the camp ; if the feline were a human, he would look appalled and dismayed at the irritated features.

Undoubtedly, no one wanted to see the two lovebirds together. Unless it's a warning; their game is terribly dangerous, betting on the luck of chance cards.

Selen blew out of spite. Then she caught her breath. She had let herself go to the kisses and the burning butterflies at the bottom of her stomach. She found herself breathless in the grip of her feelings, submerged in this wave of attention that Canach was giving her.

She got up when Canach retired to rub his ass that Rox's pet had pinched. She laughs weakly, almost out of breath, exhausted.

 

The warrior raised his head. They knew it was the end of that night's madness. He moaned when his lips were stolen by Selen in a fleeting but meaningful kiss.

She smiled at him. However, the sneaky and devious passion had disappeared from her face. The amorous playfulness had given way to an afflicted and apologetic resignation.  
Tired that miracles don't exist.  
She moved away, Frostbite came closer and lay down beside her. She backed up a little and got back into position. She was a bit tired.

He swore to see her close her eyes, her breathing getting a calm rhythm. He smiled : their night was short but when he saw her relaxed, relieved, almost at peace, he thought that being interrupted, that being separated was perhaps the most beautiful gift.

 

He stretched his legs out, leaned against the tree and finished the apple. He took great care to lick the apple before eating it, just where the sweet lips of his Commander had embraced the fruit.  
It was his trophy, his reward.  
At dawn, the light of the jungle will carry the last traces of this forbidden desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Selen (Original human Character) and Kax.


	8. Refugee (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have made their choice. She doesn't know where it's going to lead them.  
> But they are now leaving Cantha for another life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠ WARNING : not suitable for those of a sensitive disposition ⚠  
> * Implicit mention of rape  
> * Several characters' deaths  
> 

> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
>  Part 1 : Ley lines of the Tyrian story ([fr] Les lignes de forces de l’histoire tyrienne)  
>  Chapter 8 : Refugee ([fr] Réfugié)

  
I'm shivering. I hug myself to make sure someone comforts me.  
I don't even know how it all happened.

Yesterday, we could stand this tense atmosphere. Yesterday, we accepted the sounds of boots resonating with arbitrary authority. But now we've decided that Today shouldn't become Yesterday. I wonder what Tomorrow will be done when I see that we give up everything and cling to nothing, just hope. So weak.

The day before went well. There were only forty-two attacks and lightning strikes only hit the sky. We were able to escape the city. I headed north from Kaineng while my love and his parents left for Shing Jea. A ship is waiting for us at the Battles Isles for the Lion's Arch, in Tyria. Far from Cantha. They left on siege devourer. Their convoy leaving opposite my direction, they leave for Shing Jea. Me, for Kourna.  
I am afraid, but I'm hiding my tremor. _The wind is strong, isn't it ?_  
I feel like I'm alone. Even my love in my heart and his kisses on my skin no longer warm my heart. I wrap my arms around me.

  


*

  


I'm going to Elona, my brother is there for a business and commercial deal. He must know that we're leaving Cantha. Definitely. We can no longer bear this life. We believe and hope that tomorrow will bring us a better life.  
I have to find him, warn him. I have to take him with me. He is the last member of my family. I give up everything I have in Cantha, but I will not abandon him. My family is all I really own.

War, famine, violence of all kinds were our daily lives.  
But this routine is no longer common and usual.  
The few flowers that could have been grown to honor the dead, who died in this daily life, were trampled on. And the children who bent down to pick up the bouquets joined the dead.  
Broken vases cannot be repaired.  
The graves are crying.  
Their inhabitants are screaming.  
However, the livings are silent. They hush and pretend to live. _Shut up and do as you're told. Obey._ It belongs to Yesterday,Today is perhaps the last of Yesterday. But one thing is certain : Today we decided to open our mouths. Yesterday was silent in the cries of pain. Today decides to bring out and release his voice, even if he has to join the cries of suffering. 

 

The journey is hard but not as much as the laws we accepted in silence.  
I'm pitching. I'm panting. I'm nauseous.  
Sand everywhere.  
And a little further away, smoke.  
A large-scale wildfire. I'm tired. My feet are sinking into the desert. The heat rises at the same time as my fear because my destination is at the heart of this blaze. A warning light like a lighthouse. But I just want to run away. To hide. The fire burns with a warning. Strength. Hate. Submission.

The village where my brother lives no longer exists. It is ashen, in the grip of flames. I looked in the ruins, in the houses. I didn't find him, either under the debris or among the bodies. The fire washed away all traces.  
My legs are shaking and my stomach plays music in this solitude. All this way, to leave with nothing, not even hope.  
_My brother ! Hope, wherever you are...._  
All I have to do now is join my love and his family. All I have to do now is join them if I don't want to lose the last things that light my way in this dark night. I'm hot and I'm shivering with cold.

The departure of the ship is in four days.  
_My love, we said, « See you soon. » before we separate._  
_But « Soon » takes time to come. I haven’t heard from you for seven days, my love._

  


*

  


I used a strange mount that flies over the water after ending up in the water at least thirteen times and being injured in the shoulder by a jellyfish : just to be able to tame it.  
I went and arrived at the Domain of Istan to understand that hope wasn’t here. The Gods have long since left our world, yet this is the first time that I concretely think they have abandoned us.

On the Chalon Docks, I approached a woman who seemed to be discreet. When we're both at a safe distance, she approaches me and asks me :  
« Are you here for the bounty ? » She retreats when my lack of response becomes long « Are you with Joko ? » I sighed.  
Everything is so complicated. My backpack is starting to weigh. I don't understand anything except the signals from my wounded body and my lonely heart.  
« You're not from here... »  
« And I don't want to be. I want to join the Battles Isles by taking a ship. » I look at her with my exhausted eyes.  
« It's a very strange decision. The track is dangerous. You could die. »  
I catch myself laughing weakly, tired of my existence.  
« At this point, I have nothing more to lose. Maybe dying is the best thing that can happen to me. »  
Everything is getting on my nerves. _Why is everything so tedious, tiring, exhausting ?_ Her face seems saddened. There is also pity. I don't want it. I want my love. I jus want to join my love !  
I think I slammed my tongue, almost irritated. I’m weary. This surprised the young woman who sighs.  
« Here, the boat just makes the trip between Amnoon and Istan. The only ships that can take you on a trip are those of the Corsair Flotilla. But they are corsairs... »  
« They're not going to help me unless I'm rich. »  
She nodded. Her frizzy hair shivered like flowers in the wind, bending to either side in a slow swing. « And you're not. »  
I sneered, « Is it so obvious ? » I caught my breath. I'm strangely out of breath. And my wound pulses.  
« There is also Sandswept Isles. Maybe you may find something. But the best way to get there is by corsairs ships. » 

 

_My last chance is yonder._  
I used the skimmer again. But like me, he's exhausted. I finished the crossing by swimming. My distress gives me a strength I never thought I had before.  
My love, I'm afraid. All his efforts... what if they were in vain ?  
_Should we have stayed in Cantha, to suffer the blows of the soldiers, the insults, the poverty ?_  
_Should we have kept silent as we have done in the past, like all the previous Today ?_  
_Should we have stayed in this faded-flowered daily life ?_  
I have a headache. I'm frozen to the bone and burning with fever. Swimming didn't improve my condition.  
I crawl on the beach, drag my body over this stretch of sand. And that didn't help my condition either.  
The island seems huge. I don't have time to go around the island to find help. Moreover, aid seems limited under the yoke of immortal liche Joko. And time is running at an incredible speed. It's already dark. The night has already fallen.  
The sounds of the nature around me keep me awake.  
My heart hurts. My eyes are stinging.  
_I'm scared, my love, and I miss you so much._

  


*

  


My insomnia made me climb the cliff and the plateaus. I'll be able to see further. Heights will help me make quick choices to find a ship. I don't have much time left.  
Something has been following me for a few minutes. My crying that I can't stop makes too much noise. This something is getting closer. He grabs my arm.  
I'm screaming...... I scream in pain. I scream in fear.  
_I have enough ! Leave me alone ! I just want to find my beloved !_  
I huddled up cowered and cried more about my misfortune and the fucking curse that's beating on us.  
_Leave me alone ! I didn't do anything wrong !_  
I swear on those gods that have disappeared.  
_I didn't do anything !_  
Oh yes....  
I didn't do anything.  
I have always been content to keep quiet, nod and smile politely. I've always accepted to bow down to these tyrants. I've always looked down. I have always turned my eyes away from those who are in pain.  
Is this the sanction for not saying anything when my people were being slaughtered ?  
Is it punishment for keeping my mouth closed when you just had to open it to refuse this fate ?  
Is it the retribution for leaving the flowers rot in the midst of withering and wilting corpses ?

In front of me is a djinn. Blue, huge. Immense.  
The sky and the sea are my destination. The horizon is a point of hope.  
The water in my eyes slowed down like the course of a stream stopped by rocks.  
He stares at my face streaked with tears and sprinkled with dust. He, too, has grief painted on his face. A sorrow as vast as the unending ocean.  
« I need a ship. I beg you... My love is beyond these waters. »  
He tilts his head. He waits a while, studies me a little. He extends one of his four arms to point me in the right direction. I'm sure : tears appeared on the word "love". I'm sure I heard him whispering, « You're right. Let's go. Flee tomorrow. » Except that I'm leaving Today. I nod, bow to thank him. I run with my bag in my arms like we squeeze a child. All that trip I made in three days when I could have done it in a few hours. All this way to find my brother and finally leave with a heart turned by despair. 

 

On the way, I met a child lying on the ground.  
The awakened and the forged had fought for their respective masters. They had fought on the land where the villagers, the child and his family lived. They were victims, collateral damage. The child saw his relatives, his kin and his neighbours under stained sheets. (Necromancers call it a shroud.)  
Then his mother and his sister tried to escape... like us. They tried to hide in the hold of a pirate ship, hoping. The pirates had fun with his mother and sister. Then the pirates threw them overboard. The sea only dumped the child, on the salt. The sea kept his mother and his sister. The sky weeps for him. His own tears sank to the bottom of the abyss.

I have to meet my people at the Battles Isles harbor. I'll never make it in time. They will leave without me. I'm running late. I don't want to finish alone.  
I took the child with me.  
_My love, I haven't heard from you for nine days already._

  


*

  


Some charr gave us a boat. The journey is long. But I don't feel anything anymore. No more heartache, pain and fatigue. My eyes are focused on you. The sky has turned red. The dawn of a new day appears.  
I arrived at the port of Battles Isles with the little boy in my arms. A hug. My arms surrounded around him.  
We're almost three days late, so obviously the ship for the Lion's Arch had left without us. I hoped you'd be there, my love. Having refused to leave without me. Waiting for me on the edge of the wharf. But the platform is empty. It's just the two of us.

Time is running out. So fast. A smuggler appears ; probably a zaishen taking advantage of the situation  
I have to pay him and have no luggage in order to be light. I give him my bag and its contents. I hesitate when I take my wedding ring between my fingers. It's this ring or the child.  
My hands are now empty of accessory.  
The child will stay in my arms, no matter what. My love is in my heart.  
He's giving us an appointment.  
We joined the other survivors, the other refugees. Elona is no better than Cantha.  
There are many of us. Opposed to each other. Forty maybe.  
We sail to Tyria, curled up and crammed into each other. The child is in my arms.  
_We're coming, my love._

  


*

  


The raft slides on the waves. We're getting soaked more and more. The sea is getting choppy. The waves are increasing. We're pitching more and more. The sky darkens. The sea too. The waves are getting bigger and bigger. My embrace tightens on the child.  
There is really no hope. The sea turns into a beast ready to swallow us. Shapeless waves. Huge. Immense. Terrifying. We are swallowed up in this sway.  
We lean to the right. No, to the left. My stomach flow back. The child digs into my arms. We're going up. We're going down. We're crushed against each other.  
We're in the middle of a storm.  
The sky is stained with black and thunder invites the torrential rain. Flash. Lightning.  
My journey has never been so hectic.

People fall off the raft. They disappear in the movement of this turmoil.  
My shoulder hurts...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Time stops.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The child is no longer in my arms.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He falls and dives into the storm. A wave swallowed him up, stifling his screams. The cries disappear ; he did too.

I feel wobbled. Someone clings to me like we cling to one last hope. But hope is long gone. He disappeared with our Gods. He joined the dead in their dishonoured graves, crowned with trampled flowers.  
He pulls me out, we rock. The raft breaks, the pieces spill. I went back all over the place in the crash of the swell.  
My hope has had its ups and downs, its peaks and troughs. Today it is at its lowest.  
I'm trained at the bottom of the water.

 _« See you soon. »_  
_Sorry, my love._  
_I won't see you again, I won't have any news of you... because « Soon » will never come._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet.


End file.
